


Patch’s Story

by EmilytheLemur



Category: All Hail King Julien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27878702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilytheLemur/pseuds/EmilytheLemur
Summary: A prequel to Homecoming.





	Patch’s Story

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own All Hail King Julien or any of its characters but I do own a few characters in this story.

As he ran through the jungle, trees flashed past Elliot and overgrown vines tripped him. He fell face first into a bush, dazed for a moment. Then he heard crashing behind him and growling nearby. In an instant, he was on his feet again and raced away from his stalker.

Too close!

He didn’t dare look over his shoulder, afraid of being slowed down; then his pursuer would surely win.

_Faster!_ a voice screamed in his head. _Go faster!_

He willed his feet to move quicker, but still, he could feel hot breath on his neck, could sense great jaws closing on his tail…

No! he thought at the same moment his pursuer sprung on him. They rolled over in the dirt several times, before Elliot was finally pinned down. He shut his eyes tight, unable to see what was about to happen. Instead of feeling sharp teeth ripping into his flesh, he felt the roughness of a cat tongue. Dripping with saliva, he struggled in his attacker’s grisp.

“Enough!” he shouted.

Instantly, the fossa let go and sat up.

“No-No fair,” Elliot grunted as best as he could. Growing up with the fossa, he could talk about as well as they could. “Mac faster on four legs. Elliot slow on only two.”

The fossa shook his head. “Doesn't matter. Two legs. Four legs. Just legs. Doesn't make fossa. What inside makes fossa.”

Elliot frowned. “If real fossa, why look so different?” He looked over his fossa friend, who walked on four legs and had brownish-golden fur, while he stood on two legs and had black-and-gray fur, with a ring tail. He was a funny looking fossa.

The cat-like creature narrowed his eyes. “Elliot been listening to other fossa. Don't. They wrong. You more fossa than them.”

“No, Mac,” objected Elliot. “They right. Don't look like fossa. Don't have teeth like fossa. Or claws like fossa. What am if not fossa?” What was he really? he wondered.

“Doesn't matter,” Mac insisted. “All you need to know I found you. No family. Fossa family now.”

Elliot sighed. Mac was a great friend, but for some reason he still felt out of place with the pack. There had to be more out there than this place where he was always mocked and rejected.

Elliot was pulled from his thoughts by Mac, who licked him between the ears. “You made the way you need to be made for purpose in life. We always friends, and support you no matter what.”

Young Elliot wanted to be reassured that there was nothing wrong with him, but he still questioned if Mac, or even he, believed it.

“Come,” Mac growled, and Elliot reluctantly followed him back to camp. They were greeted by a fossa with a short tail.

“Welcome, Mac. Everything quiet while gone.”

“Sander,” Mac said to him. “How many times have to tell you? Am not leader. Grant leader.”

Sander lashed his stumpy tail and muttered something under his breath, but Elliot didn’t hear it. For as long as he could remember, Sander has always looked up to Mac and came to him with all his problems, even though Grant was in charge, not Mac. But that never stopped Sander from seeking advice from Elliot’s friend.

Stalking past Sander, Mac padded up to an older fossa with a scar going down his cheek. “Grant,” he grunted.

Grant stared off into the distance for a long moment before finally acknowledging Mac. A wild light entered his eyes as he asked,” How training?”

Mac hesitated, and Elliot held his breath. Would he tell him what a disaster it was? After a minute of silence, Mac replied with a “fine”. 

Elliot was distracted from them by growling and he turned to see three fossa circling him.

“Fake fossa,” one of them snarled.

“Unwanted,” another barked.

“Go back to own kind,” the third hissed.

Elliot was opening his mouth to defend himself when someone spoke behind him. “Leave alone. May not look fossa but is inside.” Elliot turned in surprised to see Sander standing there. He stared at him in amazement. Sander hated him more than anyone, so why did he just stand up for him?

For a moment Sander and the three fossa glared at each other. Finally the bullies turned their backs on him and marched away. Elliot let out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks,” he said, turning to Sander, but he froze when he saw the look on his face.

“Not for you,” Sander growled, and it was then that Elliot realized he only defended him because that's what Mac would have wanted. He probably didn't even believe what he said. Elliot watched him stalk away, loneliness eating at him. His only friend in the whole pack was Mac, but he could never truly tell him what it was like getting teased about being an outsider. He was part of the pack, unlike Elliot. He wouldn't understand.

Elliot watched Sander walk over to Mac and Grant, completely ignoring the leader and speaking to Mac. “Hungry? Go hunt. For you.”

Mac looked annoyed, while Grant glared at Sander, mistrust shining in his eyes. Elliot held his breath, bracing himself for a fight to break out. According to the pack, Grant hasn’t been the same since the Great War between fossa and the mountain lemurs that happened way before Elliot was even born. But lately, the leader has been acting more unstable, jumping to ridiculous conclusions that labeled his own packmates as traitors even if they did nothing wrong.

As he watched the angry twitching of his tail, Elliot was sure he was about to throw himself at Sander. But after another moment, Grant looked away. He muttered something to Mac, and then stormed off, growling to himself.

Mac left, too, and Sander followed him. Elliot stared after them, suddenly getting a bad feeling, like something was about to happen, but he wasn’t sure what. Shrugging it off, he hurried to catch up to Mac and Sander.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next few days went by uneventful. Then Grant gathered a group of three or four fossa, Mac included. When they returned, Grant announced that they discussed things, and decided to surprise the lemurs and take as many as they can for dinner. The pack yowled their approval, and Elliot hoped for all of fossa kind that Grant was becoming a proper leader again.

Still, he couldn’t help but notice the worried look on Mac’s face. He was walking over there to check on him when the pack started to move out. Without sharp teeth or claws, Elliot was useless to the raiding party, so he was ordered to stay behind with the rest of the weak links.

Elliot paced back and forth as he waited for the patrol to get back. Finally, they returned and Elliot ran up to Mac, eager to know if they caught any lemurs. He didn't really care much for the fossa diet and much rathered fruits and bugs, but still, he didn't want his pack to starve.

Suddenly he noticed that the patrol seemed smaller than when they left.

"Where Mary Ann?" he asked.

Mac avoided eye contact. "Lemurs got her. Couldn't save her." He stalked past him without even a glance at him.

Elliot stared after his friend. Mary Ann captured? "Odd," Elliot said with a short pause before continuing. "Lemur got fossa. But fossa stronger. Lemurs no claws. How fossa lose to lemur?" He had a bad feeling.

Mac froze and Elliot walked over to him, noticing a look in his eyes, like he knew something he was unwilling to tell. Elliot was concerned. What could possibly have happened that Mac couldn't tell him?

Before Elliot could question him, another fossa walked up. “Mac," he growled. “Mary Ann missing.”

Mac looked nervous. “Know.”

“Where she?”

“Fossa!” The call came from Grant, who stood looking down on his pack from a pile of rocks where he always made his announcements. Mac slowly walked over there, joined by the rest of the pack. Lastly, Elliot sat down beside Mac. Did Grant call this meeting to talk about the failed attempt to capture the lemurs for dinner?

“Success!” the leader grunted. “Mission success!”

Elliot noticed the younger fossa, the ones who didn’t have a meeting with Grant before the attack, exchanged confused glances. And the ones who did attend the meeting looked almost ashamed. But why?

After a moment of silence, Sander spoke up. “Success? How? No lemur. No dinner. Still hungry.”

“Mission not about lemurs,” Grant admitted. “Mission about making fossa strong! One fossa plotted against me. No longer! She gone!"

There was a long moment of silence. Then someone called out," Mary Ann gone... your fault…”

“Mary Ann plot against me,” Grant growled. “Want overthrow me. Now gone, no worry.”

“What do you mean, ‘gone’?” asked a fossa.

Grant stood his tallest and looked down at his pack. “Lemur capture her. No longer threat to me.” An insane light entered his eyes as he gazed down. “Anyone have problem?”

At first nobody spoke, and Elliot was wondering if they were too afraid to. Did they think if they spoke out, the same thing that happened to Mary Ann will happen to them?

Then Sander stepped up. “I have problem.”

Grant narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, more fossa gathered around Sander and announced that they, too, had a problem with what Grant had done. Suddenly the whole fossa pack, besides Mac and Elliot, had spoken out against their leader.

Eyes wide with shock, Grant stared down at the crowd of angry animals that used to be his followers. For a moment he was silent; then a strange noise escaped his mouth. At first Elliot thought he was choking, but suddenly he realized he was _laughing!_

The fossa pack exchanged nervous glances, unsure what to do now.

_He snapped,_ Elliot thought, terror rising in him. _Lost his mind._

Talking beside him distracted him, and he glanced sideways to see Sander eagerly encouraging Mac. "Now your chance. Run Grant out. Fossa all mad. On your side."

Mac hesitated.

"You want be leader?" Sander demanded. "Can now. Just run off Grant. No one stop you."

Time seemed to slow down as everyone waited for Mac to give an answer. Grant glared down at him, hatred burning in his eyes.

"Trusted you," the leader growled. "Treat you like son. Now what you want do?"

Mac looked torn for a moment, like he didn't want to go up against Grant after everything he's done for him. But Elliot could tell what Sander said got to him. He wanted to be leader. Finally he decided. His expression turned dark. "Your time over. Waited long enough. You get worse. Your mind broken. Gone too far. Let Mary Ann be taken."

Grant was about to reply, but Mac didn't let him. He crouched down and flung himself at the leader. They rolled off the pile of rocks and landed on the hard ground below. The breath was knocked out of Mac, and taking advantage of this, Grant bit down hard on Mac's leg.

Yowling with agony, Mac twisted around and clawed at Grant's face. The leader let go and stumbled away. He glared at Mac, blood dripping into his eyes, but he didn't seem bothered. He shook his head, spraying blood everywhere, before pushing off his hind paws. He knocked into Mac, and they both rolled closer to the cliff.

They wrestled together, several times almost losing their balance and going over the side of the cliff. Elliot watched, frozen in horror, while Sander and the others all howled for Mac to win.

Finally, Mac pinned Grant down. The leader tried pushing him off, but he was panting from exhaustion. It was over. Grant was defeated.

When they realized this, the fossa pack yowled their approval for Mac as leader. Then they quieted it down to see what Mac would do next.

After several moments of glaring down at the defeated leader, Mac finally growled," Leave. Never return."

Grant's eyes blazed with anger and hatred, with a hint of crazy in there, but even in his insane state, he knew he was defeated.

"Fine," he growled. "Will go." Mac slowly let him up, and Grant started walking away. But before he left the camp, he shot one more glare at Mac. "But _will_ return. Don't know when. But will return." He stalked out of the camp, snarling to himself as he left.

Once the former leader disappeared over the rocks, Mac stood tall and joined the rest of the pack in the middle of the camp. Everyone congratulated Mac, all except Elliot, who hung back and watched Sander hover around the victorious fossa, eager to start following his orders.

Mac hissed at Sander. The short-tailed fossa backed away. Pushing through the pack, Mac stopped in front of Elliot.

"Congrats," Elliot grunted.

"Thank." Mac was silent for a moment. Then ducked his head and affectionately licked Elliot between the ears.

Looking past the new leader, Elliot saw Sander standing there, hatred burning in his eyes. Elliot tried not to let the short tailed fossa get to him, but as he turned back to Mac, he couldn't stop thinking about Sander and that glare he gave him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The pack happily obeyed Mac’s orders the following days. The bullies stopped teasing Elliot now that his friend was the leader. They weren’t necessarily nice to him either though; they avoided him. To Elliot’s relief, Mac stopped their training, assuring him that he was already plenty fossa and didn’t need to prove it. The pack didn’t argue with Mac, but nobody really agreed with him either.

Elliot still noticed Sander watching him with all the hatred he’s ever felt toward him for as long as he could remember. But Mac told him not to worry about him, saying he was just jealous. He explained how, once upon a time, he and Sander used to be close. When Sander was a cub, he followed Mac like a shadow, and Mac confided in him about everything. But ever since Mac found Elliot and brought him home, they grew farther and farther apart, and now Sander openly hated Elliot for all the time Mac spent with him.

Elliot wasn’t sure how to feel. He had nothing against Sander and liked to believe that if he needed help, Sander would be there for him, like he was when the bullies were ganging up on him and he stepped in. But Elliot knew he only did it because that’s what Mac would have wanted him to do. He didn’t care about Elliot at all.

A few days after Mac became leader, a familiar fossa slipped into their midst. Standing on the pile of rocks, Mary Ann yowled out to her former campmates in a clear voice.

“My fellow fossa, hear me! I return to you much changed. I have seen beneath my savage hunger and discovered my superior intellect. I will teach you; I will lead you. Not only should we rule Madagascar; we shall rule the world!”

Later, they discovered that the lemurs had captured her and tamed her, teaching her how to speak properly. They had wanted to stop her from eating anymore lemurs, and the king thought she could live among them without temptation, but he had been wrong. She went savage again, and, unable to stay with the lemurs any longer, she ran away.

Now she has returned and she planned on teaching her fellow fossa everything she learned while living with the lemurs. It was a difficult task, and several times she considered giving up. But she pushed on, and eventually, after a very long time, she taught most of the fossa how to behave properly and as time went on, it appeared that they were benefiting from the change.

But not all things were peaceful in the pack. Mary Ann and Mac didn't always see eye to eye, and they disagreed over anything and everything.

“Are you crazy?” Mac growled, lashing his tail.

“I am not,” replied Mary Ann, crouching down. “You are if you think we are going to listen to you.”

“It’s better than your suggestion.” Mac lowered himself to the ground, readying himself to jump on her. She prepared to pounce, too.

Elliot stood a distance away, watching nervously. This was the third argument today alone! What was happening? Ever since Mary Ann returned, her and Mac haven't been able to agree on anything.

"What makes you think you have the right to order me around?" Mac demanded.

Mary Ann glared at him. "Because I am the one who brought culture to this savage pack. What did you do?"

"I chased the previous leader out," Mac growled. "Who tricked you into being captured by the lemurs. You _owe_ me!"

"Owe you?" Mary Ann snarled. "Why, you good for nothing tick-brain. I owe nothing to anybody."

Mac's only response was wiggling his headquarters, fixing to jump on her. But before he could, another fossa walked up and cleared his throat. Mary Ann and Mac turned their heads sharply at him.

"What?" they both hissed.

The newcomer looked at them nervously. "I just asked where we should move the food pile."

Mary Ann and Mac glared at each other. Then Mary Ann, with her tail and head held high, stalked away. Jumping onto the pile of rocks, Mary Ann yowled to get everyone's attention. The pack gathered around to listen, their eyes shining with curiosity.

Elliot walked over to Mac, settling himself beside his friend. He noticed his tail twisting, clearly irritated. But there was amusement in his eyes. Elliot was confused.

"Watch her get booed off the rocks," Mac murmured before Elliot could ask him what was funny.

Footsteps behind them startled Elliot, who turned around to see Sander coming up to sit on Mac's over side.

"She'd deserve it," the short-tailed fossa growled. "Who does she think she is, standing up there? Only _leaders_ can stand on the rock pile."

"Don't worry, Sander," said Mac. "She's going to get a reminder."

But to their surprise, the pack remained silent as they stared up at Mary Ann, waiting for her to speak. Mac dug his claws into the ground in his frustration.

“While we’re on the subject of prey,” the female fossa called out loud and clear. “I think we should stop hunting the lemurs.”

Her words were met by astonished gasps. The pack started muttering amongst themselves, shock rippling through them like waves in an ocean. Beside him, Elliot noticed a big grin on Mac’s face. He didn’t have to ask him to know what was going through his mind. He believed Mary Ann took it too far this time. If anyone was on her side, nobody would be now. Lemurs were the fossa diet, excluding Elliot of course. Mac had always told him that he was unique that way.

“No way anyone is following her after that suggestion,” Sander growled gleefully on Mac’s over side.

“Friends,” Mary Ann went on from the pile of rocks. “Hear me out, please. Look past your bottomless stomachs, and see the opportunity in front of you.” She walked to the very edge of the rocks and looked down at the pack. “Instead of food, we can make peace with the lemurs. We have so much to learn from them.”

“Peace?” someone called out.

“You mean, make _friends_ with the lemurs?” another exclaimed.

Elliot glanced at Mac, expecting to see amusement or delight that Mary Ann was making such a fool of herself in front of everyone. But instead, he was surprised to see him looking thoughtful. What was going through his head? Elliot wondered.

But he didn’t get a chance to ask him. He watched as Mary Ann moved over on the rock to let someone else stand beside her. Elliot’s mouth fell open. A lemur! What was a lemur doing so far into fossa territory, alive?

“A lemur!” the pack howled.

“Mary Ann, what is the meaning of this?” a fossa demanded.

Mary Ann stood up tall. “This is Horst,” she called out. “He is…” For a moment she hesitated, then said,” He is a very close friend of mine, and he has agreed to help the fossa and the lemurs to get along. No one is to lay a claw on him,” she added in a deep growl, crouching down, challenging the pack to object.

Silence met her words. Everyone was in shock. What were they to do? Mary Ann was their leader. _But Mac is too,_ Elliot thought, and as if they heard him, the whole pack turned to look at Mac. Nobody uttered a word, waiting for him to say something.

Standing with authority, Mac gazed over the pack. "I agree with Mary Ann," he announced, and everyone gasped, surprise and shock shining in their eyes. Even Mary Ann looked taken aback as if she didn't expect him to agree with her.

"Let me explain," he growled. "I don't agree to become friends with them." Mary Ann's eyes narrowed. "But I do agree that we should stop eating lemurs," he added.

"But if we don't eat lemurs, what _will_ we eat?" Sander asked, completely in shock that he didn't seem to realize he was arguing with his idol.

"I have a few ideas," Mac started, and then went on to say that they could try eating other small mammals on the island, or birds and frogs, and maybe fish and insects, too.

The fossa pack shared uncertain looks.

"I don't know…" one of them murmured.

But Mac wasn't done. There was one creature he went into detail about. "Web-footed tenrecs," he told them. "They can't climb or run fast. They'll be easier to catch than lemurs. We can at least give it a try."

Elliot thought the pack was going to reject his obvious thought out suggestion. But finally they nodded and excitement ran through the pack as they yowled their approval.

So they gave it a try, hunting other animals that also lived on the island, and they found some of those creatures tastier than lemurs.

But Mary Ann kept pushing that they make friends with the lemurs. Nobody listened to her anymore, and then one day the pack had enough of her making them seem weak.

"Leave and never return," Mac growled at her.

"But-But-" she stammered.

"Go!" he snarled, crouching down. "Or I'll make you go."

Mary Ann narrowed her eyes. "You may have chased Grant away, but he was old and already defeated. I'm stronger than he was." She paused for a moment before adding," I will go, but don't think this is over, because it's far from it! Horst!" With the lemur close behind her, she spun around and ran into the jungle.

Not even a day later, someone visited the fossa camp. The fanaloka strolled in like he owned the place. Somehow he knew who was in charge because he went straight to Mac without even a glance at the other fossa.

Elliot hid behind his fossa friend as the stranger named Karl came up.

"You have a special one among you," he declared, pointing to Elliot, who blinked, confused. What did he mean by that?

Mac looked impatient, and, sensing this, the pack snarled and growled at Karl, but the fanaloka didn't seem to notice. He kept his eyes fixed on Mac.

"What are you rambling about, cousin?" Mac snorted. "You've never seen a lemur among fossa before?"

Elliot stared at Mac. He's never called him a lemur before. He's always insisted that he was a fossa. Until now, Elliot didn't want to believe how different he was, even if it had been obvious. Why would Mac betray him like that by taking back everything he's ever told him, by simply calling him a lemur?

He tried to tell himself that he didn't mean it, that he still saw him as one of the pack. Even if he didn't, Mac and the rest of them were still family to him. He might look like a lemur, but deep down he was fossa through and through.

"No," Karl answered Mac's question. "Which is why he's special. That and… something else." He glanced at Elliot for a moment before looking back at Mac. "Can we take this conversation somewhere private?"

Mac hesitated, then nodded and beckoned Karl to follow him, leaving Elliot behind. Elliot stared after his friend. All his life, Mac had only been away from his side just a few times. Elliot knew he should feel comfortable with the pack, but they never did anything to make him comfortable.

What seemed like forever went by, and Elliot was using a stick to draw lines in the sand. Finally, Mac returned, without Karl.

He bounded up the rock pile and called a meeting. "We have a job, my brothers and sisters."

"A job?" someone called out. "Job to do what?"

"How would you like it if someone did your chores for you?" Mac called out. "What if they did all the work while we relaxed and played games?"

The pack glanced around, as if expecting one of them to volunteer. Mac shook his head. "They won't be fossa. How would you all like to have lemur slaves?"

Silence met his word. Then Sander yowled," Sounds great, Mac!"

The other fossa followed his example, calling out their approval.

"But how do we get the lemurs to listen to us?" someone called out.

Their neighbor cuffed them over the ears. "Tick-brain," she hissed. "We're fossa, are we not? We just have to show them our claws and teeth, and they'll be begging to be our slaves!"

"So let me get this straight," a fossa up front growled. "We're not going to _eat_ them?"

"We are not," Mac answered. "Once we get the lemurs," he said, raising his voice so everyone could hear him," None should be hurt, especially the king. We have a special plan for him."

He let out a throaty laugh, which was echoed by the pack. Elliot watched uneasily.

Mac jumped off the rocks and everyone turned to watch him walk over to Elliot. "And Elliot here will have the most important role. He will earn their trust and when the time is right, we strike. Do you think you can do that, Elliot?" he asked him.

Elliot swallowed. He didn't want to admit how nervous and unsure he was. Maybe if he did this, the pack would finally accept him, even if he was a lemur.

Elliot nodded. "I'll do it."

"Great." Mac turned to the pack. "The plan starts first thing in the morning!"

That night, Elliot found that he couldn't sleep. He kept tossing and turning until finally he gave up and sat down in front of the rock pile, looking up at the moon in the sky. He was so nervous about tomorrow.

Footsteps behind him startled him, and he spun around to see Sander walking up. The short-tailed fossa sat down beside him.

"Tomorrow is a big day," he said softly.

Elliot nodded.

For several moments they were silent. Then Sander turned to look at Elliot. "Try not to mess it up, okay?"

Elliot blinked. "I-I'll try," he stammered, taken aback. He watched as Sander stalked away. He had really hoped for some motivational speech that would thaw the ice between them. But he should have expected Sander to be himself.

The next morning, Mac stood in front of Elliot. "You know what to do," he told him.

Elliot nodded, and turned to leave. He walked alone through the jungle for the first time in his life. Mac had given him directions to the lemur kingdom, and when he was getting close, he froze to take in a deep breath and let it out again.

_This is it,_ he thought, pushing down his nervousness.

Pushing through the leaves and bushes, Elliot found himself in a large clearing, much bigger than the clearing beside the cliff side where the fossa camped. The whole clearing was packed with creatures, and with a closer look, he realized that they all looked like him, just with different fur colors.

At first, nobody noticed him, then suddenly there was a crowd surrounding him, talking and pushing to see the newcomer. His head spun, trying to keep track of anything that was happening.

Someone pushed through and stood tall in front of Elliot, eyeing him. “Who are you?”

Elliot’s gaze switched to the leafy crown upon the tall lemur's head, and realized this had to be the king his pack spoke of. “Your Highness,” he greeted him as he bowed down, showing respect to the higher rate lemur like any fossa would to the leader of his pack.

Nearby, he heard one of the lemurs whisper,” What’s that new guy doing?”

Another one answered him. “Showing respect to the king of the lemurs, of course, like everyone should do.”

The king smiled, before turning back to Elliot. “Now new guy,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“They call me Elliot.”

Before the king could say anything else, a gray heavyset lemur pushed him aside, stopping in front of Elliot and looking him up and down. His gaze lingered on the black spot on Elliot’s gray belly.

“I-It can’t be,” he stammered, eyes growing huge.

A female lemur made her way to him through the crowd. “What’s wrong, Maurice?”

“Do I need to show this lemur out of the kingdom?” An orange lemur stood behind them, and she cracked her knuckles to make herself seem threatening, and she glared at Elliot.

“No!” The lemur called Maurice threw his hands up dramatically. Then he turned to the king, who was staring at him with huge eyes. Elliot watched, confused. “Julien, don’t you recognize him?” Maurice pointed to Elliot. “I mean he’s older but the spot on his belly is unmistakable.”

King Julien looked over Elliot again. For a couple of moments, he still looked confused. Then his eyes sparkled with a memory and he stammered,” P-Patch, is that you?”

Elliot shook his head. “N-No, I told you. My name is Elliot.”

“No,” Maurice said, coming to stand beside him. “Your name is Patch and this here—” He pointed to King Julien—” is your brother.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment and tell me what you think! Thank you!
> 
> THE END!!


End file.
